


Hair

by susies_fandom_wonders



Series: Requested Fics [6]
Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Genre: Gen, headcannon, not ship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2019-02-07 05:13:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12834054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/susies_fandom_wonders/pseuds/susies_fandom_wonders
Summary: How much can Desmond put into one Hershel Layton's hair before he notices?





	Hair

**Author's Note:**

> I made a post about Desmond meeting Hershel when he still has the 'fro of hair. Anonymous requested a blurb from that idea.  
> The idea can be found here: https://www.google.com/url?q=https%3A%2F%2Fslenderbrine22.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F167122352137%2Fi-have-a-great-idea-desmond-meeting-hershel-while

Desmond concealed his smile as he shoved another pencil into Hershel’s hair. The man next to him didn’t react, his concentration focused on a puzzle the red-eyed man had given him.

This wasn’t the first item Desmond had put into Hershel’s large afro of brown hair.

The man had managed to stick six pencils, two pens, and a few spare coins into his brother’s hair. Hershel was none the wiser, his careful mutterings about the puzzle concealing the soft swish that the man’s hair made as the objects stuck into the soft curls.

“I don’t think this puzzle has a solution, Des.” Desmond flinched at the voice as he reached for another object. He looked at Hershel.

“What do you mean?”

“The set of rules you gave me. None of the answers I have gotten meet them. Your puzzle has no answer.” Desmond grinned.

“You got me there. Sometimes the answer is no answer at all.” Hershel gave a soft hum, looking down at the paper with the puzzle on it. How Hershel could read his chicken scratch, he had no idea. Nobody except for Raymond and occasionally his wife could read it.

“So the correct answer is no answer at all?” Hershel looked over at the red-eyed man then, a puzzled frown on his face. “That’s a dirty move, Des.” Desmond gasped mockingly, trying to pull his attention away from his brother’s hair.

“How you wound me.” His wife entered the room then, and covered her mouth when she looked from Desmond to Hershel, her eyes crinkled in amusement. She managed to somewhat compose herself before she spoke.

“Lunch is ready, boys.” Hershel stood, and Desmond looked at all of the objects in his hair, and gave a small snicker. Hershel gave Desmond a confused glance, but didn’t ask why he had laughed. Desmond stood a moment after, and followed his younger brother into the dining room.

His wife gave a large grin as she looked over the younger man’s hair. Their daughter looked at Hershel as if he’d grown an extra head. The man looked around, confused at everyone’s expressions as he sat down.

“Uncle Hershel?” Their daughter asked.

“Yes?”

“Why….” She crunched her eyebrows together as she thought her sentence through. “Why are there coins in your hair?” Desmond didn’t try to hide his laughter as Hershel’s hand flew up to his head, his eyes growing wide as he shot a scandalized look at his older brother.

“How long have these been in here?” His voice was a squeak as he swiped a hand over his hair. His wife gave a small laugh before walking over to the distressed man and beginning to pull the objects out of his hair, setting them down on the table as they were removed. Hershel’s eyes only grew wider as the pile of objects slowly grew. Their daughter’s eyes were just as wide as her uncle’s, her eyes twinkling in curiosity.

“How did you manage to get all of this into my hair?” Desmond just grinned. Hershel’s eyes narrowed.

“Was this why you wanted me to solve that puzzle.” It wasn’t even a question. Hershel knew.

“You sound as if that puzzle was a bad thing.” The younger man frowned.

“It was a dirty move.”

“But it was a good one.” Hershel looked at him for a moment before his expression shifted into a thoughtful one.

“You may be onto something.” Hershel smirked, and Desmond couldn’t decide if he needed to be concerned or not. “By the way, Des… there’s something in your hair, too.” The red-eyed man gave a surprised noise as he swiped his hands over his curled hair before catching onto something. Hershel gave a smirk.

“How did you --”

“You get distracted just as easily as I do.” Desmond narrowed his eyes.

Oh, the game was on.


End file.
